The boy who dreamed of being a hero
by VibrantColors
Summary: It's easy to dream. It really is. It is also easy to say that you will give everything to make your dreams come true. But sometimes, a memory of a rainy night is enough to remind you what is really important.


The frozen wind wailed between distorted trunks, carrying the faint odor of moist earth. The rain fell hard on the cold ground, soaking to the skin the young man, who was walking towards the wrecked pedestal. Shivering with each step he took, he looked worn out and exhausted, as the freezing cold drops were piercing his skin like millions of tiny needles. Nevertheless, he continued walking in silence. The flame inside his lantern was unable to cleave the thick black of the night, but it was proved to be a fine excuse for those cursed memories to come back to haunt him once again.

It was a night like this when, the younger then, man opened his puffy from sleep eyes, only to see his uncle heading armed towards the door. The old man's words were still echoing in his mind.

"Oh, Link you are awake. I'm going out for a while. I will be back by morning. Don't leave the house."

Not a single word came out of Link's mouth. He just stared at the streams of raindrops flowing down the window, as the door behind him closed with a loud noise. It was not until several hours later that he got out of his bed, searching with his trembling arms for the same lantern he was holding right now. He disobeyed his uncle for the first and the last time that night.

Many days have passed since then. Then the days became weeks. The weeks became months, the months became years… It has been two years since that rainy night, but his feelings still remained the same, as if the gaps in all those months never existed.

The loud sound of the thunder brought him back to reality. Link lifted his face, letting the lightning's light dancing across his wet skin before vanishing forever in the dark gloom. He inhaled deeply, but that didn't ease the pain in his chest. The young man started walking once again, while hearing the sound of his feet sliding through the leaves.

He stopped when he reached in front of the pedestal. Pinned in the ancient relic was the fabled Master sword, patiently waiting for thousands of years for the next hero to wake it up from its slumber and use its evil banishing powers once again. Without wasting any time, Link pulled it from the pedestal, setting it free from its shackles. The silver blade glinted beneath the light of lightning, emitting a golden aura, a sign that the sword accepted its new owner. Unlimited amounts of energy were flowing through the young man's body, healing his wounds and yet he was feeling weaker than ever.

Link stood in the rain looking at the Master sword, its formidable presence making him realize, once again, the burden he was carrying on his shoulders. Had he found the blade two years ago, his heart would have been beating fast, his blue eyes shining with excitement. He had always been fascinated by words such as treasures and adventure, spending his days daydreaming about tales of heroes who rescued captured princesses and saved the world from evil wizards, putting himself in their shoes. He had been nothing but a naive fool … And now, a hero chosen by the gods, he wanted to throw that blasted sword away, releasing himself from this terrible fate of destruction and death. He didn't care if his feats would become legends for the future generations; he was no longer enthralled by the passionate love that was waiting for him inside the princess' warm embrace. Walking side by side with death every day, made him realize the value of the life he so casually tossed away when he became the one who would cleanse this world from darkness. Really, why did he choose to accept this fate? Had the spell of hero been that strong on him? Or had it been his uncle's death that blinded him with revenge? He didn't remember, but it didn't matter anymore. Now, the only thing he wanted was to return home and find his uncle alive and well, only to lecture him because he was wandering outside on such a bad weather. He was yearning for his warm bed, the sweet fruits of the big tree in the backyard, even the neighbor's stupid cats, which had been chatting in front of the window every single damn night.

Link then felt a single drop welled up from the corner of his eye. Succumbing to his emotions, the young man thrust the Master sword on the wet earth, firmly holding its hilt with his shaking hands. Hot torrents of grief coursed down his face, mingling with the rain, his racking sobs lost in the strong wind that tore his green clothes. He would give anything to turn back the hands of time and stop his uncle for leaving the house that night, forcing someone else to take the fate of the world in their hands. As much as he begged the gods though, his wish wasn't fulfilled. They were just watching in silence, making Link realize that he desired a life in which he would never been able to return.

…


End file.
